


Back in the Atmosphere

by helsinkibaby



Category: Fame (TV), The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Het, Romance, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: After a year long tour of Europe, Reggie comes back to America and tries to pick up where she left off.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write this literally years ago and never posted it because it's the ultimate in self indulgence. I found it on the hard drive over the summer and, when the September Bingo came up at one million words, decided to polish it up for that. Square is "reunion"
> 
> Title from "Drops of Jupiter" by Train, aka, the themeist of theme songs.

Reggie tapped her spoon restlessly against the rim of her coffee cup while she waited, ostensibly looking out of the window to the late afternoon sunshine outside, in reality not seeing a thing. She supposed that she should be paying attention, keeping an eye out for her friend, or doing something constructive with her time, like reading or writing or anything but what she was doing; namely, immersing herself fully in paranoia. 

"You're being ridiculous," she chided herself mentally, knowing in her heart of hearts that it was true. She kept trying to tell herself that it didn't matter that she'd been gone for the better part of a year, because they'd kept in constant touch, talking to one another every day for hours, despite the time differences, despite the costs, and they had the phone bills to prove it. Still though, it wasn't the same as being in the same room with him, as being able to see his face, look into his eyes and know what he was thinking just from that. When she'd left, he'd been just another Democratic political operative, working on a campaign that was doomed to failure from the start, because really, who would ever elect a Democrat in the California 47th ? Still, he hadn't given up, had believed in the cause right up to the bitter end, not even stopping when his candidate died, and he'd emerged victorious, an upset victory that had left him calling her from his hotel room sounding as if he was half-dead, muttering about his godlike qualities and being able to summon the rain. 

His reward for such an endeavour? A three-week stint at the White House, working on the Inaugural address. Not that he'd taken the job immediately mind you, that had been good for another round of phone conversations between them, and she still thought, when she'd hung up the phone from him in the early hours of what was Thanksgiving morning for her, that he wasn't going to do it. 

Hearing the next day that he'd changed his mind wasn't as big a surprise as he'd expected it to be for her. 

She'd listened to the speech on Inauguration Day half a world away, live via CNN International, becoming teary-eyed, most unusual for her, as she listened to his words, words that he'd read down the phone line to her at obscene hours, lines that she'd heard him hone over and over, and she'd thought that she'd caught a glimpse of him in amongst the rest of the staff, her heart skipping a beat at the sight. 

The rest of the guys had teased her to no end about that, but she hadn't cared.

She'd been too busy thinking about how much she missed him. 

He'd called her as he was getting ready to start going around the eight Inaugual balls, and he'd promised her that as soon as he got a flight to Europe sorted out, he'd meet her there. She had three more months to go over there, and he was going to take some time off, travel around with them, be, in his father's words, "a drain on your trust fund" for a while. 

She couldn't wait.

Then she got another call from him, again in the early hours of the morning for her. He was in the office, working on something big he told her, and she couldn't understand why, when his contract had officially ended after the speech had been given. 

That was when he told her his big news, that the President had appointed him Deputy White House Communications Director right then and there, in the middle of an Inaugural Ball, in front of all the rest of the Senior Staff. It had only been then, on the phone to her, that he admitted that it had never occurred to him to turn it down, as he told her that he'd hardly been able to believe that it was happening, and he'd been apologetic that once more their plans were being put on hold on his account. 

She sensed that he thought that she was upset, that she would be angry at him. Instead, she swallowed her own disappointment, easier to do than she might have guessed, and told him that he'd done the right thing. That this was a great opportunity for him, for his career and that he'd be crazy not to grab it with both hands. 

After all, he'd let her go nine months earlier so that she could follow her dreams. She owed him no less than that. 

So the next few months had been like the previous few; emails, long phone calls, frequently late at night, never letting on to anyone, even him, how much she missed him. 

And now here she was in Washington. 

She'd flown into New York the previous night, staying at her parents' house and collecting some of her stuff there, driving from there to Washington, enjoying the peace and quiet, the solitary travelling, after living and travelling in a goldfish bowl for so long. When she'd hit the Beltway, she'd pulled over and called him, but his cell had been turned off, and she didn't want to call the office, which was when she hit on the idea of calling one of her best friends, the person who'd introduced them as a matter of fact. She'd been thrilled to hear from her, all the more so to learn that she was home, and her shrieks had undoubtedly been heard all over the East Wing. She'd suggested this place, giving very precise directions, telling her to be there in an hour. 

For once in her life, Reggie had been early, which mean that she was sitting here, waiting, listing all the things that could go wrong in the next couple of hours.

She was saved from her ruminations by the door of the diner opening, and a petite dark-haired young woman entering, her eyes lighting up as she saw Reggie. She squealed, just as she had on the phone, and Reggie instantly relaxed, a smile coming to her face as she stood up to greet her friend. They hugged each other tightly, both laughing, before standing back to look one another up and down. "It's great to see you Reggie," were the first words out of Elsie's mouth, giving her another quick impulsive hug. Reggie didn't reply, hoping that her smile was answer enough, not that Elsie gave her a chance to. Once again, her eyes raked up and down Reggie's slim figure, taking into account the black slacks and plain blue top, her auburn hair falling around her shoulders, minimal makeup on her face. Reggie felt herself blush under the scrutiny, and Elsie raised one eyebrow, her face transforming into a sardonic smirk. "You look… very sedate." 

Reggie shrugged, sliding back into the booth. "My General Bailey clothes," she explained simply, earning her a laugh from Elsie. Both of them knew that this was far from Reggie's normal choice of attire, and that she only dressed this conservatively when she was going to see Elsie's stepfather. 

"You do know he's not going to be around today?" Elsie questioned, but before Reggie could reply, the waitress arrived, filling her coffee cup and taking her order for a slice of pecan pie. She asked Reggie if she wanted anything, but she just shook her head, the thought of food making her stomach turn. "Reggie, I've never seen you turn down pie," Elise noted, her face a mixture of amusement and concern. "What's wrong? And why did you call me?" 

"His phone was switched off." The answer, though true, rang hollow in Reggie's ears, and, she could tell by the look on her face, in Elsie's. 

"And?" Reggie looked down, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, not sure of how to answer. "Reg?" The voice was softer then, kinder, the obvious sympathy allowing Reggie to look up. 

"How is he, Elsie?" she asked quietly, and Elsie's face broke into a smile. 

"Settling in to life in the White House," she replied. "Alternating between having the time of his life and a nervous breakdown." There was a slight pause before she continued, her eyes boring lasers into Reggie's. "Missing you like crazy. Counting the days until you come home." 

It was just what Reggie wanted to hear. "Really?" 

"Yes really!" Elsie laughed outright. "Reggie, he's nuts about you, you know that. What's got into you?" 

Reggie shook her head, tilting it back as she did so to look at the ceiling, wondering how she could put her feelings into words. Once upon a long ago, she remembered telling Kate Reilly that she was a disaster at relationships, that when she liked a guy, she lost it, turned into a complete idiot. She'd got better with the passing of the years, but every now and again, something happened that made her revert back to that sixteen-year-old again. 

Like being away from the man she loved for the best part of a year. 

"It's just been so long…" she sighed, biting her lip. "And I know we've talked…" 

"And talked, and talked," Elsie interjected, a wicked grin on her face, her brother clearly having filled her in on the details of their enormous phone bills. 

"But it's not the same. And I guess I'm just wondering what he's going to think when he sees me. If he's going to wonder if it was all worth it."

Her voice had faded away towards the end, and Elsie reached across the table, taking her hand and squeezing it. "It's going to be ok, Reggie," she promised. "More than ok."

"You promise?" It was Reggie's turn to lift an eyebrow, and Elsie just nodded once. 

"Bet your ass." Leaving her coffee more or less untouched, she stood up, looking down at Reggie expectantly. "Come on. Let's go." 

They were able to walk from the diner to the White House, something Reggie was sure that Elsie had had in mind when she selected this place, not wanting to give Reggie any more time than was necessary, lest she back out. As it was, she kept up a brisk pace, not pausing until she reached the lobby of the building, turning around and looking at Reggie, who was frozen in the doorway. "Are you coming?" she asked, with more amusement than impatience. 

Reggie just stared at her for a long moment, at the friend that she'd stayed up with for long hours into the night, striving to create the funniest joke, in search of that perfect one liner. She'd always loved the fact that, while Elsie had grown up in Europe around wealth and privilege, she was still just like Reggie and the other kids that she'd gone to high school with back in New York. And now here she was, walking into the White House as if it was just some ordinary building, instead of what it was.

"No," Reggie decided promptly, turning tail and heading back the way she'd come. She heard a laugh behind her, heard footsteps rushing to catch up with her, and tried very hard to avoid her friend's eyes, difficult when Elsie was standing right in front of her, hands on her forearms tightly. "This was a bad idea, Elsie," she said, knowing that she was babbling, not really caring. "He's working, he's not going to want me to disturb him, I'll just leave and call him later on-" 

"Reggie!" Elsie was still smiling, her eyes dancing, but her voice was like iron for all that, a tone that brooked no argument. "You're coming in here with me, you are going to see him and I'm not taking no for an answer." With that, no matter that Reggie was several inches taller than her, she fairly dragged her up to the reception desk, signing her in, handing her an identification tag with a large red "A" on it with a flourish. 

Then they were off again, walking through halls that didn't even register with Reggie, who kept her eyes focussed on Elsie, walking just ahead of her. Then they were turning into a room, obviously the bullpen of Will's many descriptions, and Elsie was looking down at a redheaded woman sitting a desk beside the door. "Hey, Ginger. He around?" 

So this was the Ginger that Will had mentioned, and Reggie found herself eyeing the other woman with interest, keenly aware that Ginger was doing the exact same thing to her, evidently wondering who this stranger with Will's sister was. "He was a few minutes ago," she replied, glancing around her, then down at her desk and the appointment book there. "I think he was going to ask Josh something." 

"It's a sign." Reggie's words had Ginger looking at her curiously, had Elsie turning sharply to her. 

"It is not," she replied, and Reggie shrugged in response. 

"Elsie," she said, shaking her head exaggeratedly, eyes wide in mock innocence. "I'm just saying, that if I was meant to see him right now then he'd be here right now-" 

Just at that moment, her argument was shot to hell by a familiar voice coming through the bullpen as the object of their conversation walked through a door that was behind Ginger's desk - just how many doors were in this place, a part of Reggie's brain wondered idly- not looking up as he walked, his eyes fixed on the folder in his hand. "Ginger, next time I decide to talk to Josh when he's in the middle of fighting with CJ, remind me to take a flak jacket or something, ok?" 

"Will do," Ginger said, and while Reggie's eyes opened wide at how blasé Will was as he tossed off that comment, Ginger seemed to take it all in her stride. "And there's someone here for you."

Will stopped at the door of his office, turning around and looking up, his eyes settling on Elsie first, then sliding off her, fixing on Reggie. He stared at her at first, as if he wasn't really sure whether he could trust his eyes, then he blinked, the tiniest of amazed smiles appearing around his lips. "You're here," was all he said, surprise plain in his voice, and suddenly, Reggie found all her fears, all her worries, melting away. 

"I'm here," she replied. 

"And I'm not," was Elsie's contribution, squeezing Reggie's shoulder, waving at her brother. "I'll talk to you two later." 

"Bye," Reggie said, and though she was talking to Elsie, her eyes never left Will, and she couldn't help but notice that when he said his goodbyes, his eyes never left her either. 

There seemed to be a long silence as the bullpen continued to mill around them, and while part of Reggie knew that Ginger's eyes were darting between her and Will as if the redhead was a spectator at a tennis match, she didn't really care. All she cared about was the man standing just a little bit across the room from her. He was still the Will she'd only been able to talk to on the phone for the last few months, black suit impeccable, blue shirt and complimenting tie, glasses just so on his face, which was wearing the bemused look that had seemed to take up permanent residence there during the first few months of their relationship. His eyes moved up and down over her body, just as hers did over his, and he was the first to speak. "You look…" He paused, more for effect than consideration she knew, "Surprisingly conservative." One eyebrow quirked up, and she knew that smirk of old. "What happened to the pink hair?" 

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "Didn't want to scare you," she said flippantly. 

"Not much chance of that," was his instant response, and she tilted her head.

"Or anyone else," she said pointedly, and he nodded. 

"Fair enough." He gestured with his folder towards the open door of his office. "You coming in?" 

Now it was her turn to lift an eyebrow. "Depends," she teased. "Is the goat still in there?" He rolled his eyes, tilting his head to the ceiling, and she was sure that she heard a snicker, hastily stifled, from Ginger. 

"Reggie-" 

"Hey, can you blame me?" She held up her hands, taking a couple of steps closer to him. "It looked pretty cute in that picture you sent me-" 

"This," he cut across her, "from the woman who brought a fish into her high school English class for a book report." 

"It was The Old Man and the Sea, he was a marlin called Clyde and that was inspired," she told him archly, able to feel Ginger's eyes boring holes into her back. 

"I'm sure." His voice was dry as he stepped aside to let her in, calling over her shoulder to Ginger as she passed, "Ginger, can you hold my calls please?" 

She could just about hear the other woman's affirmative reply before the door closed behind them, and she took the time to look around the office. It was fairly spartan, but then, this was Will she was dealing with, she hadn't expected anything less. Aside from the books and files needed to do his job, not to mention the extremely messy desk taking up most of the space, there was very little else in the office, certainly nothing to indicate that it belonged to Will. He wasn't one for material keepsakes, the hallmark of attending boarding schools and moving from place to place for most of his early life. She, on the other hand, was a complete packrat, her car currently packed with belongings, her old room in her parents' house, not to mention their basement, packed with still more. 

The sound of the folder dropping on to the desk brought her back to reality and she turned to look at him, smiling when she saw him smiling at her. "Nice office," she said, and he just shrugged, moving around the desk, coming towards her. 

"You do know, don't you," he asked conversationally, ignoring her words completely, "that in very short order, the entire West Wing is going to be buzzing about the visitor that I've received." 

"They've been talking about you ever since you started working here," she responded.

"True. But this is the first time they've ever had something in my personal life to discuss." 

He'd been moving towards her the entire time that he'd been speaking, and she'd been turning around slowly so that she could face him. Thus she was keenly aware that they were side-on to the window, and that the blinds were open, allowing anyone who was looking a clear view in. That wasn't something that seemed to concern him though, as he reached out to place his hands lightly on her hips. "For all you know, they could think that I'm your sister," she told him, but her hands of their own accord went to his shoulders, curving around to rest there comfortably. 

"Not in a minute they won't," he assured her, and she tilted her head in surprise, which seemed to suit his purposes perfectly as he lowered his head, fitting his lips to hers. 

The one thought in Reggie's mind, before he drove all other thoughts out, was that it was good to be home. 

*

They'd been sequestered in his office for nigh on a half an hour when he commented on how long it had been since his door had been opened. "It must be a new record," he told her, and Reggie leaned back in her seat, raising an eyebrow. When he'd finally released her from his arms, not that she'd been willing to leave easily, he'd directed her to the visitor's chair, going around the table to his usual seat. She'd given him an amused pout, wondering aloud if the break had ruined her mystique, because he'd certainly never been willing to sit so far away from her before. She got one of his looks in response as he pointed out to her that not only did he have to work here, but that there was nowhere in the room that they could easily sit side by side. 

Her response has been immediate and instinctive. "I could always sit on your lap," she said, and was gratified to see him smile, see his cheeks flush slightly. 

"Let's not start anything we can't finish," was all he said, obviously trying very hard to be stern and serious, an effort that failed completely once she grinned at him. 

From there, they fell into old habits, an easy banter that had been there right from their first meeting, discussing what he was working on, how she'd come to be signed into the White House by Elsie, her parents sending him their regards. He called the hotel in her presence, telling them that he was going to need to be issued another room key, leaving her name at the reception desk. She told him about Europe, about the last few days there, and they began making tentative plans about her return to America. 

Then he made his comment about the lack of interruptions, and her reaction was one of dry amusement. 

"You mean to tell me that no-one has come to your window and peered in to get a good look at who you're talking to?"

His lips twitched, a dead give-away, but, "There may have been a slow walk by or two," he allowed, and she leaned back in her chair, inclining her head ever so slightly to her left. 

"And I suppose the amount of bodies congregating in the office next door is an ordinary occurrence." She could see it out of the corner of her eye, the window between the offices, could see the three people, two men and a woman, talking in there, walking around and every so often throwing unobtrusive glances into Will's office. A couple of times, the younger man had walked towards the door, only to be stopped by something, possibly the other two telling him to stay where he was, but she had the distinct feeling that it was only a matter of time before he found some excuse to come in, a feeling that was only made stronger by the look on Will's face as he glanced in the direction she'd indicated. 

"No, I'm pretty sure they're there so they can see you," he said. "In fact, I'm pretty sure Josh is going to come through the door any minute now." 

"That would be the curly haired guy?" she said, though she knew well who he was; for a woman whose only exposure to politics before meeting Will had been helping Lou Mackie become president of the Metropolitan Bowling League, she'd learned fast who the major players in the Democratic party were. She knew that in the office beside them were Toby Ziegler, who she didn't know too much about, apart from what Will had told her, that he was a brilliant writer with a rather short fuse. CJ Cregg she knew by sight, from watching untold news reports featuring her press briefings, and she had to admit that she'd come to admire the tall elegant Press Secretary through that, and even more from what will had told her. Practical jokes notwithstanding - though putting a goat in his office had been pretty funny, and Reggie only wished she'd been there to see it - from his accounts she was tough but fair, funny but firm, and there was no doubt that the press held her in high esteem. Josh Lyman was another story altogether though; she knew more than she ever wanted to know about him; the product of one summer Monday evening that faded into Tuesday morning as she and Will stayed up all night waiting for news of the President and Josh. 

They'd been watching a movie together at her place, her heckling the performances and editing choices, him trying to get her to just stop talking, when the sombre faced announcer had broken across their chatter, explaining what had happened. Their playful banter had ceased instantly as they'd stared at the television in mute shock, and by unspoken agreement, neither had moved far from the couch that night, save to stock up on coffee or whatever sugary confections could be found in Reggie's cupboards. Despite what had happened that night, despite what brought them there like that, Reggie still smiled when she remembered opening her eyes, unaware that she'd dozed off, to find that not only was her head resting on Will's shoulder, but that his arms were firmly wrapped around her, his cheek resting on her head. They hadn't even officially been dating at that stage, having met only a few weeks earlier, but they'd been well into an inch by inch slide into more than just friendship, a progression that escalated rapidly after that night. 

"You know exactly who he is," Will said archly, leaning back in his chair. "You know who all those people are." 

"I'm just trying to make you feel all knowledgeable and superior," Reggie quipped, pausing deliberately before she added, "Not that I have to try too hard…" 

"Hey!" Will's indignant protest was cut short by a soft knock at the door, and a quick glance from both him and Reggie ensured them that the office next door still retained its full quorum. "Come in?" Will called, sounding vaguely curious, frowning when the door opened just a crack and Ginger's head peeked through, followed by the rest of her body. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, and to her credit, she did manage to sound sincere, nodding apologetically at Reggie. "But Congressman Gibson has rung three times for you, and I'm not so sure I'll be able to hold him off the next time. And Toby said to remind you that you're in the Oval Office with the rest of the Senior Staff in fifteen minutes." 

Will's eyes widened and flew to the clock. "It's that late?" he asked, and Ginger just nodded at him, glancing once more at Reggie before she made to leave, and Reggie couldn't resist it. Staying quiet had never been in her nature. 

"He gets you to do the dirty work, huh?"

Ginger frowned, obviously taken aback. "Excuse me?" 

Reggie gestured with her head towards the window, knowing she'd hit pay dirt when Ginger's eyes darted there too, her pale cheeks flushing. It was the curse of the naturally pale redhead, Reggie knew; they couldn't hide their emotions worth a damn. Kate Reilly had been just the same. "They're in there just dying for an excuse to come in here, and they sent you in to soften up the ground, am I right?" 

Her tone was conspiratorial in nature, and Ginger grinned, even as Will looked at her reprovingly. "Reggie…" he warned, before looking at Ginger. "Ignore her. I can't take her anywhere." 

"Ignore him," Reggie told the other woman blithely. "He loves it really." 

Ginger, looking as if she didn't know quite what to make of the two of them, simply shook her head, a broad smile appearing on her face, and exited the office without another word, either by accident or design leaving the door ajar after her. 

"Must you?" Will asked when she was gone.

"What?" Reggie was all innocence, but she knew from the look on his face that he wasn't buying it, not even close. Not that she expected him to; after all, that was part of the fun. 

"You're not back in town a day and you're already exposing people to 'The Reggie and Will Show'?" 

"You betcha," was Reggie's quick response, and some movement out of the left corner of her eye caught her attention, made her turn her head. "And I think you're about to get the full performance." 

Will might have moaned something unintelligible, but if he did, it was cut off by Josh Lyman striding through the door, already talking before he'd even set foot over the threshold. "Will, we need to talk about the thing for the President…" He stopped dead when he saw Reggie, affecting surprise, and even if she had known that he'd been watching them for the best part of ten minutes, she still would have known that he was lying. He was a pretty lousy actor, and she'd worked with so many, she knew what she was talking about. "I'm sorry, are we interrupting?" 

The "we" came in the form of CJ Cregg and Toby Ziegler, the former looking amused, the latter seeming more annoyed than anything else. "I want it on the record that I had nothing to do with this," were the first words he said. "Regis and Kelly over there couldn't wait any longer." 

Josh shot him a look that had Reggie betting that he'd have strong words with the older man later on. "I have no idea what he's talking about," he said, looking right at Reggie. "He's a new father of twins. He's a little addled." 

"I'm not addled." 

"And you're not interrupting." Will stood up, resting his hands on the table. 

"They're not?" Reggie put on her most innocent, almost childlike tone, as she fairly batted her eyelashes at each of the others in turn. She noted with satisfaction that that move had Josh moving backwards in surprise, glancing over at CJ and Toby. 

Will's eyes shot lasers into hers, his narrowing, daring her to do this. She must have been away too long Reggie thought to herself, because he really should have known better. "You were just leaving." 

He was trying to be firm, and she wasn't going to let him away with it if she could help it. Still though, it was CJ who spoke up. "Will, you're not going to introduce us to your… friend?" There was a pause before the final word, which received a rather obvious emphasis, and Reggie had to fight back a grin. She'd known she'd like this woman.

Will sighed, an indication that he was feeling cornered and that he didn't like it. "Toby Ziegler, Josh Lyman, CJ Cregg, this is Reggie Higgins. Reggie, Toby, Josh, CJ." 

"It's nice to meet you all," Reggie said, standing up and shaking each of their hands. "I've heard a lot about you." 

"I wish we could say the feeling was mutual," Josh said, smirking at her, inclining his head in Will's direction. 

"Oh you know Will," Reggie shrugged, looking over at him, seeing the veiled panic behind his eyes. "So circumspect."

"That's one word for it," Josh replied. "You just get into town today?" 

Reggie nodded. "I got into New York late last night," she said. "Stayed there overnight and drove down here today." 

Will's ears pricked up at that, she'd known they would. He thought she'd flown straight into Washington, that she'd talked to her parents on the phone recently, and she'd let him go on thinking that. "You drove?" His voice was suspicious, more than a little strident, and had all three Senior Staffers frowning at him. "Drove what?" 

"My car." All innocence again. 

"Reggie-" 

"Will, it's a perfectly safe car." 

"It's a wreck," Will protested. "It's older than you are!" 

"Hardly." The look she gave him was withering, and they'd had this conversation before, many many times. She turned to the other people in the room holding out her hands. "It's a 1989 Volkswagen Beetle, and it runs fine." Turning back to Will she added, "My dad had it checked out while I was away, got a whole bunch of stuff done to it. It's better than new." 

"It's held together with rust and prayers, mostly mine," was Will's reply. "You need a new car." 

"I like my car. It's got character." She was acutely aware of the heads swivelling back and forth between them, of the smiles that were on the other faces. 

"Character," Will scoffed, looking at his co-workers. "It's canary yellow, with red fluffy dice hanging from the mirror. You can see her coming from ten blocks away." 

CJ and Josh were clearly fighting a losing battle with laughter, and even Toby's lips were trying very hard not to turn up in a smile. Seeing that, Reggie moved in for the kill. "There are a lot of good memories in that car," she told Will, looking only at him. She took a beat, then another, just as Mr Seeger had taught her to do all those years ago, then she added, with unmistakable inflection, "You should know that." 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the other staffers react with amazement as her words sank in, but their reactions were nothing compared to Will's. He opened his mouth, then closed it again as her words registered with him, a blush flashing across his cheeks as memories were called to mind. He opened his mouth again, then closed it again, looking off to the side, tapping his fingers on the table. When he turned back to her again, he was fighting to control a smile, and losing badly. "Don't try to distract me," were his words of choice. 

Reggie had the perfect reply, tossed off with a jaunty shrug. "Hey, I'm just giving you the facts," she informed him. Another beat, then, "It's not my fault you've got a dirty mind." 

That did it for CJ, as a snort of laughter, hastily stifled, escaped her. Josh's shoulders were shaking with the effort to suppress his, and Toby was obviously biting the inside of his cheek. Will stood still for what seemed like a long moment before he made any moves. "Right, you're leaving," he said firmly, going around the table and taking Reggie by the arm. 

"So soon?" CJ managed to choke out through her laughter, and Reggie shrugged. 

"I'm sure I'll see you again," she said, standing her ground as best she could as Will tried to maintain his composure.

"I'm walking you to the gate, and I'll see you later on tonight," he said to her, before turning back briefly to Toby with all the dignity he could muster. "I'll be in the Oval Office for the meeting." 

He didn't pause for any more talk, walking Reggie out of the bullpen at a brisk rate, and she pressed her lips together until they got as far as the lobby. Only then did she speak. "They seem nice." 

"I can't believe you did that," he said, not looking at her, only straight ahead, and she might have thought that he was pissed at her if she hadn't been able to see his jaw muscles working hard to keep back his smile. 

"Sure you can," she replied, and that cracked his façade a little. 

"You know I can," he told her dryly. "That's what worries me." 

"Just admit it," she ordered him, pausing in her forced march, reaching out with her free arm to touch his sleeve. Her eyes were dancing when they met his, a broad smile on her face, and she felt as much as saw him relax. "You missed me." 

A matching smile spread across his face and his hand slid down to entwine with hers. "More than I even realised." 

*

 

By the time Will made it to the Oval Office, he was uncomfortably aware that he was just about on time for the meeting, the result of walking Reggie out and, upon returning to his blessedly empty office, taking a few moments to sit down at his desk and put his head in his hands, wondering what in the world she'd let him in for. He was still sitting there like that when Ginger rapped lightly on his door, giving him an apologetic smile as she stuck her head in. "Will?" she said, leaving it at that, and he nodded, standing up with a sigh. 

"Yeah. Thanks, Ginger." 

Walking along the halls, he couldn't remember a time when he'd been more apprehensive about walking into the Oval Office, not even his first time, and when he got near the door to the Outer Office, his mood wasn't helped at all by the laughter he heard floating down the hall. Or by the fact that every head - CJ, Toby, Josh, and Ed and Larry, whichever was which - turned in his direction, snapping to attention and full serious mode. He didn't say anything, just nodded and waited for one of them to speak first, knowing that it wouldn't take long.

Predictably, it was Josh who broke the silence. "Reggie?" He was looking straight at Will, who sighed, giving him his best "Yes, and?" look. "It just seems a funny name for a girl, that's all," Josh continued, shrugging.

"Her full name is Regina," Will told him, deciding that the best strategy was to meet whatever they were going to dish out to him head on. "Though I suggest you call her that and see how many pieces she'll leave of you." 

"She's staying with you?" CJ asked. "Not that it matters…" 

Except that it evidently did matter to her, and to the rest of the room that was hanging on his answer. "Yes." It was the simple answer, and the only one he was going to give her. 

"She seems nice," was CJ's next attempt, and she seemed sincere, perhaps it was an attempt to smooth over what may have been troubled waters. 

"She is." Give them just enough to keep them happy; that's what had won him the election in the California 47th. 

At that moment, Charlie came out of the Oval Office, closing the door behind him. "He'll be with you in a moment," he told them, nodding at CJ, Josh and Toby before turning what looked like a stern eye on Will. "Man, we need to talk." The words were delivered in a tone to match the look, and Will found himself fighting the urge to step backwards. His nerves weren't helped any by the smiles he noticed being exchanged by the other three members of the Senior Staff, and he had the not unfamiliar feeling of being hung out to dry. 

"Yes, Charlie?" he asked, tightening his arms around his notebook, trying his best not to let his anxieties show.

"Working here, doing what we do, there has to be a certain kind of trust among your fellow employees, you know what I mean? For example, if CJ has something that she wants to keep the President out of, she might enlist my help to do so. If Josh needs five minutes in a tight day, I see what I can do." 

"Really?" A dry inquiry from Debbie, a woman who, frankly, freaked Will out, had Charlie looking over at her apologetically. 

"Hardly ever happens" he hastened to reassure her, and a soft grunt of unmistakable disapproval told everyone concerned that she didn't buy it for a second. "Anyway, my point is that there has to be a certain level of trust between the staff, a knowledge that we've got each other's backs." He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, in a stance that reminded Will of one of his father's lectures. "I don't think we have that anymore." 

Will frowned, not understanding where this was coming from. Quick glances at everyone else assured him that once more, he was indeed on his own, so he parried valiantly with, "We don't?" 

"You lied to me," Charlie informed him, and Will narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out when and what he'd said to deserve this. Charlie must have seen his confusion, because he elaborated with, "We were talking about relationships…you were offering me some advice…" 

Will nodded, the memory of a Dear John letter from an ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend coming to him now. "Over the matter that you were concerned about that I never mentioned to any of the other Senior Staff?" he asked, emphasising the last few words, hoping to curry favour with Charlie. "That level of trust?" 

Charlie shook his head quickly. "Don't bring up the trust when the trust is gone," he said. "You lied to me. You stood there, and you told me that the last time you had a girlfriend was nine months before that. And now I hear it's all around the West Wing that someone visits you, indicating that you've been in a relationship for a lot longer than that." 

Will was trying to formulate a response when Josh beat him to it. "Sounds like a lie to me," he agreed, a smug smirk on his face, and Charlie nodded firmly at him in response. 

"Damn straight." 

"I didn't lie, Charlie," was the only thing Will could think of to say, and Charlie just gave him a look that Will swore he could only have learned from Toby. It was a rather good impression at that. 

"When you said the last time you had a girlfriend was nine months ago?" Charlie wasn't letting that one go. 

"In my defence," Will pointed out, "That actually would have been around the last time that Reggie and I spent any time together." He paused, as something occurred to him. "Or were even on the same continent come to think of it." 

"Same continent?" For Toby to enter in on a conversation like this was more than rare, even Will knew that, though he supposed that he shouldn't be surprised. What was one more ganging up on him? 

So he just nodded. "She's been working in Europe," he said, pausing a little before adding on, "And Australia. Parts of the Far East." 

"You told me you were together for a couple of days and she was psycho," Charlie told him, referring to their conversation of a couple of months ago, and Will realised quickly that on that particular one, he really didn't have a leg to stand on. 

"OK," he admitted. "I lied about that. But not about the other thing though." 

Charlie tilted his head. "You're together now." It wasn't a question, but Will treated it as such. 

"We are." 

"And you were still together when she travelling all over?" 

Another nod. "We were." 

Charlie frowned, and a look around ensured Will that the rest of the staff were similarly perplexed. "Then how is that not lying?" Charlie wanted to know, and Will smiled to himself, anticipating the reactions, wishing there was some kind of camera here so that he could record them, watch them over and over. 

Hey, he'd been the whipping boy since he'd started here; he was allowed a little fun. 

"Because she's not my girlfriend," he said. He paused deliberately, almost theatrically, a trick he'd learned from Reggie, allowing him to take in the even more confused looks on the Senior Staffers' faces before looking back at Charlie, whose lips were pursed in thought, his whole face indicating that he was about an inch away from exploding with a "What the hell?" 

That, more than anything else made Will take pity on him, made him tell him the truth. "She's my wife." 

In the deafening silence that ensued, he realised that if he'd known that this is what it would take to render the staff of the West Wing speechless, he would have come clean a long time ago. 

*

It was much later that night when Will finally inserted the keycard into his hotel room door, and he couldn't remember a longer day. Reggie's unexpected arrival and the subsequent revelations, not to mention the phone call to Elsie to chastise her for her part in springing the surprise on him, had left him playing catch up a little, all the more so when the Senior Staff recovered their tongues and began plaguing him with questions. He'd said nothing, just stood there with his best enigmatic smile on his face, and the President had unwittingly proved to be his saviour when the door of the Oval Office opened and he invited them in. 

The meeting had gone smoothly, if a little more quietly than usual, and Will had done his best to escape back to his office, trying to get his work finished as quickly as possible so that he could make his way back to his hotel, and Reggie. Much to his unsurprise, Josh and CJ had followed him, and if the President had been an unlikely saviour, then Toby Ziegler had been even more so. Will had barely been able to keep the surprise off his face when the older man ordered everyone out of Will's office, telling them that some people had real work to do, and that they should let him do it. He'd lingered though, giving Will an opportunity to thank him, and his next words had shocked the younger man. "Do only what absolutely needs to be done," he'd said, and his words had been a command, not a request. "Then get out of here." 

Will had blinked, looking at the mound of paperwork on his desk. "Toby-" he'd started, but he hadn't been let finish. 

"The office will still be here in the morning," he'd said. "Your wife came back from Europe today. Go home. Be with her." 

There hadn't been a trace of a joke on his face, and Will, though tempted to make a wisecrack, had restrained himself. "I will." 

"Good." Toby had nodded, getting to the door before turning back towards Will. "Just to be clear - this doesn't mean that I like you, you know." 

Will had held up one hand. "Wouldn't think it." But when the door had closed behind Toby, he'd smiled anyway. He'd also done as he was told, clearing what was urgent from his desk, returning the call to Congressman Gibson, who had been as irate as Ginger had warned, and when he finally got back to the hotel, it was well past nine at night. Which, he noted wryly, was still an early mark for him. 

Immediately upon opening the door, he knew that he wasn't in Kansas anymore. His room, usually military neat, the legacy of growing up in his father's house, looked as if a bomb had been dropped on it, or at the very least as if a closet had exploded; Reggie's closet at that. There were a couple of boxes piled up in one of the corners, the closet door was barely able to close with the additional clothing, and what wasn't in there was stacked haphazardly in various places around the room. Reggie had evidently been making herself at home he decided, picking a pink feather boa off the shade of the free standing lamp as he passed, figuring that it was more than likely a fire hazard. 

In the middle of all the chaos, the calm at the eye of the storm, was Reggie, sound asleep on the bed. She was lying on her side, arm thrown across his side of the bed, clad only in one of his blue dress shirts, drawing his eyes automatically to her long bare legs. There was a peaceful smile on her face, the twin of which he could feel spreading across his own as he slipped off his jacket and tie, draping them over the back of a chair, toeing off his shoes as he did so. As quietly as he could, he made his way over to the bed, squatting down beside it, reaching out a gentle hand to push back her hair from her face. His touch had her stirring, and he waited until her eyes fluttered open before whispering, "Hey." 

Her slow smile split her face in two. "Hey," she murmured, her throat husky with sleep. "You're home." He nodded, staying where he was for the moment, his hand remaining resting on her head, and she frowned. "What time is it?" she asked, trying to turn so that she could see the clock, and that made him move in a hurry, shaking his head and climbing onto the bed beside her. 

"It's after nine," was all he told her, arranging her in his arms so that her head was resting on his shoulder. 

He heard her small sound of confusion. "Isn't that early for you?" she wondered, and he allowed himself a grin. 

"Toby told me to do the bare necessities, then to go home to my wife." He didn't try to keep the amusement out of his voice, and she looked up at him, her eyes dancing with mirth. 

"You told them I wasn't your sister then?" 

He laughed. "Oh, I think they worked that out after your little performance in my office," he reminded her, tickling her as he did so, loving how she squealed and moved against him. 

"I couldn't resist," she laughed, trying to get away from him, but not trying too hard, and he stopped tickling her, running his hands up and down her back instead, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. "This is nice," she sighed, nuzzling into his shoulder. 

"I see you've been making yourself at home," he observed, and she lifted her head, bringing one hand to his chest, drawing patterns there with her fingers. 

"Kind of," she said, in a tone that instantly had him on high alert. It was more than a little winsome, and he knew well that Reggie Higgins only put that kind of voice on when she was trying to talk him into something. 

"Kind of?" he echoed, keeping his voice carefully neutral. Just because he knew what she was doing didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it, especially when she was starting in on ever so slowly unbuttoning his shirt. 

"I mean…I know it's a nice hotel, and it's close to work for you…but…it's a hotel, you know?" 

Two buttons had come undone during that little speech, her fingers wandering across the exposed flesh underneath, and he smiled. "And you're sick of living in hotels, right?" 

She looked up at him, and there was no joking in her eyes. "I've lived in hotels for a year," she reminded him. "I want us to have our own place." 

He nodded, all thoughts of teasing her, and anything else, gone from his mind. Not only could he never tease her when she looked at him like that, he knew exactly what she meant. He was sick of living in hotels too. Still though, there was something he needed to ask her. "So, you're ok with us being here? In Washington I mean? Because I know I didn't consult you on this and it's not what we agreed on-" That had been one of his biggest fears over the past few months, easily ignored when she was on the other side of the world and he was settling in to a new job in the White House. But once she was back, he'd known that they were going to have to deal with the fact that they'd always lived in California up to now, and that the thought had always been between them that if they did move, it would be to New York, Reggie's home town. Washington had never really been on their radar, and while she'd seemed excited for him over his new job, he hadn't been sure that she'd still be excited when the time came for her to join him. 

"Will, we've had this talk." Her quiet words interrupted his, her hand going to his cheek. "You might never get another chance like this one. You had to take it." She smiled at him. "Isn't that more or less what you said to me when you sent me off to Europe?" 

He smiled at that too. "More or less," he admitted, reaching up to cover her hand with his. "And yes, by the way." 

"Yes what?" She frowned, confusion clear on her features. 

"Yes we can get our own place. I was waiting for you to come back before I went looking." She appeared genuinely surprised at that, and he chuckled. "What, you thought I was going to find a place and run the risk of you hating it, having to move my stuff twice?" 

Her full wattage smile, the one that had dazzled him on first sight returned, still making his stomach swim even now. She shook her head, and she might have been gearing up to say a hundred different things. What came out was a soft exhalation, and on it the words, "God I missed you." 

One of his hands was still on her back, the other was holding hers, and now he swallowed hard, dropping her hand so that he could place his on her hip, sliding the other up to the back of her neck. "I missed you too," he whispered past the lump in his throat, bringing her lips down towards his. The kiss in his office had been purposely chaste, if lingering; after all, he was well aware that the walls in the West Wing had eyes. This kiss though, was nothing of the sort; instead, almost a year of longing exploding to the surface in soul-searing passion, leaving them both breathless when they drew away. His clothing was in considerable disarray, the work of her nimble fingers, and the shirt she was wearing was nearly entirely slipping off one side of her body, exposing a tantalising amount of flesh to his view, a view that he just had to trace with his fingers.

She gave him a shaky smile, tears perilously close to the surface. "That's some welcome home," she whispered. 

"No," he replied instantly, giving her what he hoped was a wicked grin, turning them over quickly so that he was on top of her, her shriek of surprise echoing in his ears as he closed the distance between them to kiss her again. "This is."

* 

The alarm went off at the usual time, just as it had done every morning since November, since he'd moved to Washington and taken up residence in this hotel. Will was used to it; the digits of the clock glowing in luminous red, NPR blasting to life with whatever news he'd missed since he'd fallen into bed the previous night, or, more likely, morning. He had his own little morning routine; smack off the alarm with one hand, while his other searched for his glasses, make his way to the bathroom, shower and shave as quickly as possible. Then it was off to the White House, to his West Wing office via the Mess, where he'd grab something for breakfast, and he'd walk into the West Wing in fear and trepidation that someone would recall that they didn't like him and put something into his office, like bicycles, or a goat, or olives into his suit pocket. Then he'd go through his day, do his work, go back to the hotel, fall asleep, and do the same thing all over again the next morning. 

 

He was a creature of habit, was Will Bailey, and he'd grown to like those habits. 

This morning was the first morning in six months that his regular routine was shot all to hell. 

This was the first morning that his hand wasn't the one that shot out to smack off the alarm. Nor was his voice the first one to break the silence of the room; that honour fell to a female voice, using language that he'd never used in his life. By the time she'd exhausted every swear word he'd ever heard of, and a few that he was sure she'd made up on the spot, he was wide awake, not only wide awake, but chuckling as he pulled her tight into his arms, pressing a consoling kiss to the top of her head. 

Not that it seemed to help her any, because she concluded with, "Will, it's six o'clock in the morning!" 

He chuckled again. "And some of us," he told her, poking her in the side, causing her to squirm against him. "Have to go to work." 

"At this hour of the morning?" Her voice rose in surprise and she propped herself up against his chest, the better to look at him, and he squinted at her, because even at this close a proximity, she was more than a little blurry right now. She must have seen that, because she gave a huff of amusement. "Here, put these on." She reached over, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table, slipping them on for him, and her face shot into focus, the slightly flushed and smiling face of his wife. 

The wife that he hadn't held like this for nearly a year, which, he was rapidly coming to realise, was far too long a space of time. "Good morning," he said, smiling up at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he spoke, allowing his other hand to slide down her back, relishing the feel of her smooth skin under his palm. 

She pressed herself closer against him, her eyes fluttering shut, her grin growing wider, definitely more salacious. "Don't try to distract me," she said, echoing his words of the previous day, opening one eye and casting it over to the clock. "You really have to go to work now?" 

"You think the federal government runs itself?" he asked with a smirk, although, he reflected, the smirk had much more to do with the fact that she was moving her body against his, her lips tracing a path down his jaw to his neck, than any sense of self-importance on his part. 

"No…" she allowed, her lips pausing in their travels, her hands nowhere near as idle. "But it can wait a little while, can't it?" 

Her smile and her tone of voice were decidedly winsome, and while he was a damn good lawyer and an even better speechwriter, he really couldn't come up with an argument against that. Nor did he want to, so he didn't. He just kissed her, and let the rest of the world go on without them for a little while. 

 

* 

 

"You're late." 

Will didn't really need Ginger's observation as he hustled into his office, but he cast a glance at the clock as he walked through the bullpen, reassuring himself that yes, he really was as late as he thought. He'd never been this late into the West Wing, not since he'd first passed over the Holy Line of Demarcation, and he couldn't blame Ginger for the surprise he heard in her voice. 

"Yes indeed, I am late," he agreed, rifling through folders on his desk, further disrupting the paper pile that was already there. "Was anyone looking for me?" 

"Toby." He barely managed to bite back a groan, looking up to see her standing at the far side of his desk, a stack of messages in her hand. "And you have some phone messages." 

"Did Toby say what he wanted?" 

"No." Ginger shook her head, her eyes wide, adding, "He did want to remind you that you've got Senior Staff in the Oval Office in fifteen minutes though." 

"Right." Will nodded, looking down at his desk, then back up at Ginger. "OK." He paused, rubbing his hand over his forehead. "I guess that means I don't have time to run down to the mess for a cup of coffee, do I?" 

"No." Once more Ginger shook her head. "Can I ask you something?" 

He looked up at her, saw her shift ever so slightly on her feet, and he knew instantly what this was going to be about. "You may." 

Ginger frowned slightly, shifting her stance again. "That woman who was here yesterday?" 

"Reggie?" 

"Yes. People are saying…that is, there's a rumour going around…" 

"That she's my wife?" Will interrupted her with a smile, his fingers resting against the edge of the table, his smile only broadening when she visibly relaxed, answering him with a nod. "She is." 

She might have been expecting it, might have heard the rumour, but still she blinked, looking decidedly taken aback. "Really?" There was nothing he could say, so he just nodded. "And she's been…" 

"Globe-trotting," he confirmed, having told that much to Toby already. "Since last July." 

Ginger nodded, her head moving from side to side as she considered her next question. "And you got married…?" 

"Last June." 

Ginger's jaw dropped, and he could visibly see her struggle to pick it back up again. "You were married for a month, and she left you to travel the world?" 

Will shrugged, understanding her confusion. It wasn't the first time he'd heard that reaction, and that had been partly why he'd never mentioned Reggie around the West Wing. "We knew that she was going before we got married," he told Ginger now. "That's a big part of why we did get married." She blinked, frowning, and he waved his hand; the explanation having made sense to them at the time, still making perfect sense to them now, but not, apparently, to anyone else who heard it. "The job was too good for her to turn down…I didn't want her regretting not taking it later on. Besides, we didn't think that it would be for that long; I was supposed to join her after the Wilde campaign finished." Another shrug. "We all know what happened to that notion." 

"So… yesterday was the first time that you'd seen each other since July?" Ginger sounded amazed, and Will just nodded. "Wow," she continued, more to herself than to him. "No wonder you're late this morning." 

Will blinked, his eyebrows shooting up as her words registered with him. Once they did, a flush of heat raced up his cheek, leaving him flustered and Ginger's eyes dancing with wickedness. "Well…" he said, more to change the subject than anything else. "I should get going…" He grabbed any folders, barely checking what they were, just eager to get out of there, not that where he was going to was going to be any better. 

He was almost at the door when Ginger's voice stopped him. "You want me to run down to the mess and get you some coffee?" 

In all the weeks he'd been working here, she'd never asked him that before, and he found himself smiling at her. "That'd be great. Thank you." Even he could hear the surprise in his voice, but she didn't react to it, just gave him a firm little nod, and he nodded to, fully intending to go on about his business. But something occurred to him as he turned, and he turned back quickly. "Oh, and before I forget? I'm heading out of here for lunch, starting at two." 

The tiniest of smiles appeared on her lips, and he could practically hear the thoughts running through her mind, but she didn't voice any of them. Instead she just nodded again. "In that case," she said, "I'll see if I can rustle you up some fruit too…maybe a Danish?" 

Maybe there was a punch line coming up; Will didn't know, nor particularly did he care. He'd barely had time to shower and shave thanks to Reggie's attentions, not that he'd fought her off too hard, and Ginger's assistance was greatly appreciated. "Ginger, if polygamy was legal…" he told her, letting his voice trail off teasingly, one of the first times he'd ever joked like that with her, he realised, and he wondered fleetingly if he'd gone too far. 

He soon found out that he hadn't. "Hey, you've got to keep your strength up right?" 

Another flush of heat raced up his cheeks, and he decided to quit while he was pretty much running even, shaking his head at her with a little grin, her chuckles echoing after him as he exited the bullpen, heading to the Oval Office. 

*

He might have predicted that he'd be the last person to arrive at the Senior Staff meeting, walking into the Outer Office to see CJ Josh and Toby already there, standing by Charlie's desk, talking to the young man. He knew that it wasn't his imagination that conversation stopped when he walked in, a certain sense of déjà vu taking over as he waited patiently for one of them to say something, or for the President to open the door. 

Predictably enough, just as it had been the previous day, it was Josh who spoke first, a knowing smirk on his face. "You're late," he pointed out. 

Will shrugged. "So I'm told." 

If he thought that that would deter Josh, he had another think coming. "Good night?" 

Another shrug. "We had a lot to catch up on." 

"I know that feeling," Charlie piped up, his arms crossed over his chest, looking Will up and down. He hadn't been talking to Charlie since he'd dropped his bombshell yesterday, having made his way out of the Outer Office in a hurry, barricading himself in his office to finish his work. "We still need to have that talk, man." 

"I'd be interested in sitting in on that," Josh agreed, and Will looked to CJ and Toby, hoping against hope for support, but Toby was studiously observing his toes, while CJ looked at him with an expectant smile on her face. 

"There's really not that much to talk about." Will attempted, wondering would a non-answer hold them off, determining immediately from Charlie's disgusted look that he wasn't going to get away with that. 

"You mean," Charlie said, "That you're trying to tell us that the fact that you hid your wedding ring for the six months that you've been working here-" He glared pointedly at Will's left hand, ring finger still gloriously bare, before continuing. "And there's not much to talk about?" 

"First of all," Will protested, "I didn't hide my wedding ring. We don't have wedding rings." 

"Which in no way explains why you didn't mention her to us at all," CJ pointed out. 

Will opened his mouth, then closed it again, momentarily at a loss for words. There had been no big decision taken to hide his marriage from them, not that he expected them to believe it. He just hadn't mentioned it to anyone, which was easier than might have reasonably been believed, considering that most people had barely spoken to him during his first few weeks in the White House. Even now, they were barely at the stage where they were exchanging personal details about their lives, though Reggie's arrival had expedited the process somewhat. Elsie hadn't understood why he hadn't mentioned it to anyone, she'd told him that she should, but he hadn't listened to her. Now he wished that he had. 

His musings were interrupted for the second time in as many days by the blessed opening of the Oval Office door, Debbie emerging to usher them in. Normal business was resumed at that, because they had a lot to get through at the meeting, and Will had almost forgotten by the end of the meeting that his personal life was up for discussion and review. 

Until the one person that he'd never expected to comment on it did. 

All official business had been concluded when the President spoke up, leaning back in his chair. "So, Mr Bailey, I believe you have something to share with us?" 

He was looking at Will expectantly, and Will could barely believe what he was hearing, unable to countenance that the leader of the free world would engage in a conversation like this. The amused looks of the rest of the staff, the way that they studiously avoided his glance told him otherwise, and he swallowed hard. "Sir?" 

The President's eyes danced with mirth, though his face was carefully neutral. "Something I've been hearing about a wife you've kept secret from us?" 

It was one thing to stonewall the Senior Staff, quite another the President. "It's not so much that I kept her a secret Mr President," Will began, "As that I…neglected to mention her." 

On the couch opposite Will, he could see CJ stifle a grin while Toby rolled his eyes. Beside him, Josh hastily muffled a snort of laughter. The President merely inclined his head, probably running that sentence through his mind, as Will wondered if the ground would open up and swallow him. Finally, the President spoke, casting a glance at Toby. "It's at times like this, Toby, that I'm particularly proud of the speechwriting talent you recommend," he said dryly. Looking back at Will, he continued, "Does this wife of yours have a name?" 

"Reggie." The President raised an eyebrow, and even Leo looked sharply at him, so Will elaborated, "Short for Regina. Which she hates with a passion." 

The President nodded sagely. "And you've been married how long?" 

"A year at the end of June," Will replied promptly, the rest of the staff looking sharply at him. They hadn't known that of course, and he felt a blush starting to creep its way up his cheeks, especially as he had to fight back a smile as he thought about their wedding day. 

"And you were so ashamed of us that you've kept us apart until now, is that it?" There was a smile on the President's lips, as if he knew what Will was thinking, and Will shook his head, as much to clear it as to issue a denial. 

"Not at all, Sir. She's been working away for most of the last year… An opportunity came up, and it was too good for her to pass up. She only got back into the country the day before yesterday." 

"I see." The President nodded again. "And you're fine about working today?" 

Will's head tilted to one side, considering the words. "Sir?" 

"I think what the President is trying to say is that if you want to take the day, that that would not be outside the bounds of possibility." Toby's quiet words had Will blinking in surprise, because truth be told, he hadn't been too keen on going into work that morning, not with Reggie offering him all manner of incentive to stay just where he was. But he was here now, and he figured that he might as well make the best of it. 

"Thank you, Mr President," he said. "That's very kind of you. But Toby and I have a lot of work to get through this week." 

The President chuckled. "Sounds like a hint to me." Will's mouth opened to protest, but the President held up a hand. "I'll talk to you about this later, Mr Bailey." His words were a stern warning, but his lips were still turned up in a smile. "Thank you everyone." 

"Thank you, Mr President." 

With those words, the meeting dispersed. 

*

When Will got back to his office, he managed to find some peace and quiet in his work, the rest of the Senior Staff staying away from his door, either because they had work to do too, or because they'd grown tired of hassling him. He was hoping for the latter, but rather suspected the former, and decided to take this as a brief respite, decided that it might be better not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Of course, he should have known that while such rules applied to the rest of the Senior Staff, it didn't apply to his beloved - or not so beloved at this precise moment in time - sister. Elsie appeared at his door in the mid-morning, breezing in as if she owned the place, dropping down into the chair opposite his, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. "I take it you had a good night," she said, leaning back, fingers drumming on the arms of the chair. 

Will threw his pen down on the table, leaning back in his own chair, unconsciously mimicking her posture. "Why is everyone looking at me like that?" he demanded, fighting back his own smile, not in the least bit surprise when Elsie burst out in peals of giggles. 

"Well, it could be something to do with the fact that you haven't seen your wife in nearly a year and that she came back into your life yesterday, and that you're looking more relaxed than I've seen you in…" She paused, pretending to consider it. "Oh, quite some time." She lifted an eyebrow, staring him down. "We can all read between the lines." 

Will felt his cheeks flushing red, and there was no way he could protest it. For one thing, everything that she was surmising was completely true; for another, he'd never been able to lie to Elsie. She could read him like a book. "Did you come here just to make fun of me?" he demanded, hoping to draw her off subject, and she nodded. 

"Always." There was a second's pause. "So, how is my favourite sister-in-law anyway?" 

"You think the rest of your sisters-in-law would like to hear you talking like that?" 

"I think they know how I feel, considering I'm the one who introduced you two. How is she?" 

"I thought you'd know, considering you're the one who brought her here yesterday." He picked up his pen, beat it absently against his legal pad. "Thanks for that by the way." 

 

Elsie rolled her eyes. "She tried to call you, your cell was turned off. She didn't want to be wandering around Washington on her own, I wanted to see her. Sue us." 

He would if he could, but the lawyer in him knew he had no grounds to do so. "She's fine," he said. "I think she was planning to sleep for most of the day." There was a burst of laughter from across the table, which she hastily stifled, and he gave her his most withering look. "For your information, she's tired because of all the travelling." 

"Travelling. Sure." Elsie's lips twitched, belying her serious expression. "Sure." 

"Elsie…" 

She held her hands up at the warning tone in his voice, affecting an innocent expression. "OK, fine…I believe you." She tilted her head then, frowning, as if she was pondering something. "I was going to call her for lunch…you think she'd want to meet?" 

Will shifted in his seat slightly, clearing his throat. "I um…I kinda promised her I'd meet her for lunch." He knew the reaction those words were going to get, and he wasn't disappointed. Elsie's eyes widened, as her lips clamped together in a thin line, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Go on…" he said, with a long-suffering sigh. "Say it." 

But she didn't say anything, just threw her head back and laughed. 

After a second or so, he joined her. 

*

He hadn't been telling Elsie any lies; when he'd left that morning, Reggie had been fully intending to sleep for much of the day. However, he'd suggested that they meet for lunch, and she'd agreed, her only proviso that they go to the hotel restaurant. That way, she'd told him, she could just dress, go downstairs, and go straight back up again when he went back to work. He'd agreed, smothering his smile, telling her that he'd see her in the lobby at two o'clock. But when two o'clock saw him standing in the lobby, with no Reggie in sight, and when he checked the restaurant, and saw no sign of her there either, he went to the next most obvious place, their room. He found her just as he'd left her, covers pulled all the way up to her chin, lying sprawled on her stomach, sound asleep. 

He hated to wake her, but he did it anyway, knowing that if he didn't, she'd be pretty pissed off at him when he got home that night. Crossing to the bed, he leaned over, hand touching her shoulder, rubbing circles there. "Reggie…" he said softly, in a sing-song voice. "Time to wake up…" 

Her eyelids fluttered slightly, as she twisted slightly, face contorting in a confused frown. "Will?" she whispered, her voice more husky than normal. "What time is it?" 

He smiled, sitting down on the side of the bed, his hand still making slow circles, ever widening, against her skin. "Just past two," he replied. "I didn't see you downstairs, so I figured that you might still be sleeping…." 

She groaned, burying her face in the pillow for a moment before propping herself up slightly, the better to see his face. "I just got a wake-up call, like, two seconds ago," she grumbled, but he knew that call had come at a quarter past one; he'd made that request himself at reception on his way out that morning. 

"Don't worry about it," he said, keeping his voice low, kicking off his shoes as he spoke. Standing up, he manoeuvred himself so that he was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. His hand never lost contact with her skin though, and he used his new position to pull her into his arms, so that her head was resting on his chest. Both his hands then moved to the smooth skin of her back, resting comfortably against her ribs. "I quite like you like this," he added, a mischievous grin crossing his face. 

"Is that so?" he murmured, her hands already reaching up to undo the knot on his tie, and there was only one place this was going to end. Not that Will minded that per se, as a matter of fact, he was rather looking forward to it. "Tell me, Mr Bailey," Reggie continued, "How was your morning at work?" 

His tie slightly loosened, her hands moved to his jacket, and he aided her as much as he could in its removal. "Oh, the entire West Wing seems to be talking about the two of us," he told her, and she nodded, in what looked for all the world like firm approval. "And there seemed to be a great deal of amusement when I mentioned that we had a lunch date." 

The jacket was thrown somewhere on the floor, the tie following immediately after, and nimble fingers were undoing his shirt buttons as she asked, "And why would that be?" 

He smirked. "Seems they think that I was heading off for a 'quickie' with my wife…" 

His voice trailed off as she looked at him, her smile taking over half her face, bright enough to blind him, powerful enough to make him forget anything else he might want to say. "Well, then," she grinned, bringing her lips closer to his. "I'd hate for you to disappoint them…" 

* 

It seemed to be a very long time later, and at the same time not nearly long enough, that they came back to themselves. Somehow, though Will wasn't quite sure how, he'd managed to find himself underneath the covers with her, his clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor, and a dim and distant part of his brain hoped that it wouldn't be too creased; otherwise, everyone would know just what he'd been up to during his lunch break. 

Then he remembered the teasing that he'd heard all morning and realised that the ship had pretty much sailed on that one. 

"Earth to Will." Reggie's voice brought a smile to his face, had him looking across at her, turning on his side slightly. "What were you thinking about there?" 

He'd never been able to lie to her, so he told her the truth. "About how the rest of the West Wing are going to be talking once I get back and it's totally obvious what I've been doing for the last hour." 

To his relief, Reggie didn't seem offended in any way by that, instead throwing her head back with a throaty laugh. "Hey, if they're going to talk about you, you might as well have the fun." 

'This much is true," he acknowledged, propping himself up so that he could see the bedside clock. "And I've got to get back to it." 

Reggie pouted, pressing herself closer to him, moving against him slightly. "Oh come on…" she murmured. "Call in sick…" 

"Bout of food poisoning?" he quipped, and she giggled, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. 

"Sounds ok to me," she said, continuing to plant kisses down his neck, and it was with considerable effort that he pulled away from her, kissing the top of her head. 

"Well, I think Toby would have issues with it," he objected, casting around for his clothes, pulling them on him as quickly as he could. He was already later than he thought he'd be, and he knew he was going to be late back to the White House as well. 

"You're telling me you're scared of Toby?" she asked, in teasing disbelief, holding her hands up when he just gave her a look. "OK then, forget I asked." 

Suddenly, his doubts resurfaced, the ones that said she wouldn't understand, that she'd be annoyed at him, that he was going to lose her. "Reggie, you know I'd stay here if I could…" 

"I know that." She interrupted him, kneeling on the bed, pulling the sheet around her as she did so. He was momentarily disappointed at that, but her next words soothed him somewhat. There was a small smile on her face, and she tossed off a jaunty shrug. "It's not your fault that you have to go and be brilliant for the leader of the free world…" 

He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I'm hardly that," he protested, buttoning his shirt, and she shook her head, managing to locate his tie, beckoning him towards her. He went willingly, and she looped the tie around his neck, doing up the knot with practised ease. 

"You and I both know that's not true. Just like we know that this is the job of your dreams." The tie done, she rested her hands on his shoulders briefly, before sliding them around to the back of his neck. "I'm not going anywhere, Will. Not any more." 

The words were music to his ears, and he stole one last kiss before finding his jacket and heading back to the White House. 

* 

Once he got there, he headed straight for the sanctuary of his office via the bullpen, doing his best to ignore Ginger's twitching lips as she gave him his messages, trying not to notice Bonnie furtively looking up at him through her lashes, her eyes darting over to Ginger every other second. He nodded, pretending to listen attentively as Ginger told him who had been looking for him, who he absolutely had to call back and who could wait, and when the tips of his ears were turning red from the looks that seemed to be coming from all around him, he turned and walked to his office with as much dignity as he could muster. 

And promptly yelped. 

The last time he'd done that, there'd been a goat in his office. This time, he was greeted by CJ, who, upon hearing his yelp, looked up from her seat at his chair, looking completely at ease, as if he'd wandered into her office, not the other way around. "About time," she said mildly, and it looked as if she too was trying to keep back a grin. 

Will gaped at her, turning when he heard Ginger's voice behind him. "CJ's in your office by the way." 

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, willing himself to stay calm. "Thank you," he said, and she nodded briskly, blue eyes wide, the picture of innocence as she went back to her desk. Turning back to CJ, he shut the door with a firm click, squaring his shoulders. "I take it you're looking for me?" 

"I was," CJ confirmed, leaning back in his chair. "But you were at lunch." 

"Workplace laws are very clear about employees' rights to lunch-" Will parried, but CJ didn't let him finish. 

"I knew you were at lunch because Ginger told me, though she didn't tell me where you were. Which lead to me trying your cell phone. Which was turned off. Imagine that." 

The tips of his ears were on fire, and he could feel that his cheeks were about to follow suit. "CJ-" he began, and once again, she didn't let him finish. 

"Now, where, I wonder, could have you have been that would be more important than your job…" Her voice trailed off, and as it did, Will suddenly realised something. 

"You're playing with me, aren't you?" he asked. "I haven't missed anything important, you weren't looking for me for anything in particular, you're just playing with me." 

CJ held his stare for a long moment, her face set in that particular Press Secretary glare that had many a junior reporter quailing in his shoes. Then her whole demeanour softened and relaxed, a broad smile breaking on her face. The change was startling, and Will had to fight against taking a step back. He realised suddenly that CJ's smile was a lot like Reggie's, big and wide and toothy, and he wondered how he'd never noticed that before. 

"I was looking for you," she told him now, causing him a moment's worry before she continued, "But only about five minutes ago. Ginger told me you were due back, so I thought I'd wait." 

"And have a little fun at my expense." 

"And have a little fun at your expense," she agreed, standing up, leaving his chair free for him. 

"Well, if it doesn't involve olives in my pockets or goats in my office, I suppose I shouldn't complain." He walked around the desk, throwing the pile of message slips that Ginger had given him on the table. "What can I do for you?" 

"You can read these and craft a response for me." CJ put a folder down in front of him, and flicking through it, he saw a stack of photocopied press articles, all on the same subject. "Mary Marsh is blowing smoke again, Toby wants you on it." 

Will frowned. "Why can't Toby-" 

"Because, once you read those, you'll find that one of the things that she's crusading against is unmarried mothers, particularly those who chose to have babies by, and I'm quoting her here, unnatural means." 

"Ah." The pieces all fell into place. Not only would Toby attacking such a statement be construed as extreme bias, he'd also responding to blatant baiting on the part of Mary Marsh. Come to think of it though, recalling the story that he'd heard about the California trip, he had a feeling that responding in print was the last thing Toby was going to want to do, physical retribution being far more likely. 

"Indeed. Toby can't be anywhere near this statement; it has to come from you." She paused then, cocking her head and placing a hand on her hip, as if something had just occurred to her. "Although…you're not hiding any children conceived by 'unnatural means' from us, are you?" A slight pause. "Or natural means?" 

Will leaned back in his chair, an amused smile coming to his lips. "No, CJ. No kids." 

CJ lifted an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because you hid a wife from us, so it's not outside the bounds of possibility…" 

"Unless there's something Reggie hasn't told me, you're safe." 

"Good to know." CJ nodded, and for a moment he could almost believe that she was about to leave, that she wasn't going to say anything else to him. Then she looked down at the carpet and back up at him, and he knew that it had been a vain hope. "You guys have been married for less than a year?" He just nodded once. "And you've been living separately all that time?" 

Will shrugged. "I was working on the Wilde campaign; it's not like I could up and leave in the middle of that. And it's not like she could stay." 

He said it very matter-of-factly, and CJ's voice was gentle when she spoke again, head still tilted, curiosity etched on her features. "You know, you never did say what it was she did." 

"She's a performer," Will said simply. "Actress, singer, writer…she's pretty multi-talented. She got offered the chance to do a world tour, and she took it." 

"And left you?" There was that same vaguely inquiring tone in her voice, curiosity and concern mixed, and he hastened to stop whatever erroneous notion was taking form in her brain. 

"It wasn't an easy decision, CJ. We talked about it for a long time. She wanted to do the tour, it was good work, good money, she'd done something like it a long time ago, she knew what she was getting in to. But she didn't want to leave me." He sighed, remembering the talks that went on long into the night, going around and round in circles, leading to shouts and exclamations and accusations and tears. He remembered watching her from across the room as she dialled the number and told the voice on the other end yes, remembered the fear that had taken hold in his heart that he'd just lost her. He'd lived with that fear for much of the last year, even on the day that he'd married her, even during the long phone conversations that they had every day that she was away. Only in the last twenty four hours had it gone away, when she'd come back to him, when he'd held her, made love to her, when she'd whispered to him that she wasn't going to leave him again. He sighed, meeting CJ's eyes with another shrug. "I told her that if she went, and she wasn't happy, she could always come home. I'd still be there. But that I didn't want her to end up regretting that she didn't go, end up blaming me for it." Another sigh. "I couldn't stand that." 

"That's very sweet," CJ said quietly, and he rolled his eyes. 

"You're going to make fun of me now aren't you?" 

"Nope." CJ crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at him. "You're very lucky." She paused for a second. "But you already know that, right?" 

Will grinned. "Reggie tells me every chance she gets," he quipped, and was rewarded with a burst of laughter from CJ, who, he thought again, had one of the greatest laughs he'd ever heard. 

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, when she sobered up, and he blinked, surprised at her shift to serious again, nodding. "That's why you didn't want to work on the Inauguration, isn't it?" He hadn't realised she'd known that, and that must have been obvious from his face, because she added, "Sam and Toby both told me. Neither of them could understand why you wouldn't want to do that, why you'd rather go to Europe…but this is why, isn't it? You were supposed to join Reggie." 

Will nodded. "We were planning to meet in Nice. She was going to take a week off from the tour, we were going to relax, have the honeymoon we never had…then we were planning to join up with the tour wherever it was…Japan or Singapore, or somewhere like that." 

"Guess we kinda messed up your plans," CJ observed. 

"She understood," Will said, and when CJ lifted an eyebrow, he shrugged his shoulders. "She told me, when I called her after the Inauguration, that this was a great chance for me, that I'd worked hard for this…and that she didn't want me to regret passing it up for her." He chuckled softly. "They were the exact words that I'd said to her all those months ago." 

CJ was smiling now, though she still had a question to ask him. "What I don't get…" she said slowly. "Is that you're afraid of flying…and yet you were prepared to go to Europe, to Japan, or Australia…" 

He looked down for a second, then back up to her again. She was right, he wasn't a fan of flying, though he'd certainly clocked up more than his fair share of air miles in the course of his life. He'd be lying if he said he enjoyed it though, and over the last few years, he'd come to believe that the shorter the flight, the better he liked it. He didn't blame CJ for being confused, but the answer was easy for him; he didn't even have to think about it. "She'd be there," he said simply, and at his words, CJ's grin was back, splitting her face in two. 

"I stand by my previous comment…you're very sweet." With that, she turned to go, and her hand was on the door handle when he called out her name. 

"If you were going out for dinner with me, where would you like to go?" He knew he'd phrased that wrong when her eyes opened wide, head swinging around to look sharply at him. 

"I'm telling you how sweet it is that you're in love with your wife and you're hitting on me?" Her voice registered outrage, but her eyes were dancing, and he knew that she was just teasing him again. 

"I want to take Reggie out for dinner," he told her. "But I haven't had too much of a chance to find out where the best places in town are, so…" 

"You want to impress her? Somewhere nice, where you can have drinks, and dinner, maybe a little dancing?" Will nodded, all those things sounding very good to him. CJ considered the question for a moment before telling him "Phoebe's is nice." 

"Phoebe's?" 

CJ nodded. "I can have Carol call them, get you a reservation for tonight?" He must have looked taken aback at the offer. "They know my name there," she added, and he smiled. 

"That'd be great CJ. Thank you." 

"You're welcome." She jerked her chin in the direction of the folder. "And you'll get right on the other thing?" 

"I shall start it right now," he promised. 

"Copies to me and Leo?" 

"Gotcha." 

*

"Excuse me, Leo?" 

Will rapped lightly on the frame of the door, not moving over the threshold until the older man looked up from his reading, reaching up automatically to slide his glasses down his nose as he looked over at Will. "Will," he said, laying the glasses down on the table, nodding his head to indicate that Will should come in. 

"I wasn't sure if I should come in or not," he said as he made his way across the desk. "Margaret wasn't at her desk…"

"She's in the Mess," Leo told him dryly, rolling his eyes for some reason that Will didn't understand. "Tracking down half a grapefruit." 

That explanation, while undoubtedly helping Leo, didn't do anything at all for Will. "Why would she-" 

His question was cut off by a wave of Leo's hand. "Don't ask." The air of authority with which he spoke ensured that asking was the last thing that Will was going to do, especially when Leo followed up those words with a question of his own. "What can I do for you?" 

"CJ asked me to give you a copy of this?" Will handed him a folder with his final draft of the statement CJ had asked him to prepare. "It's the White House response to-" 

"The Mary Marsh thing," Leo surmised, flipping open the folder and skimming the contents, nodding as he read. "This is good." There was a pause as he read further, and then his eyes flicked up to Will, enquiring. "Did Toby have anything to do with this?" 

Will shook his head, an emphatic no. "He did have some suggestions as to phraseology-" he began, and Leo looked up sharply, eyes wide. 

"Will, he can't be anywhere near this-" 

"He's not." 

"Because if he is, and it looks like-" 

"He's not, Leo." Will held up a hand, forestalling, he hoped, any further comments. "This is all me." 

"Good." Leo finished speed-reading, laying down the folder, his glasses on top of it. "He seen it?"

"Not yet. I've got a copy for CJ here, which I'm going to give to her next, and once you and CJ sign off on it, I'll show it to him." 

A ghost of a smile flitted across Leo's face. "You're catching on kid." 

Will shrugged. "It may take a while, but…" He let his voice trail off, earning a chuckle from Leo, who leaned back in his chair, inviting Will to take a seat across from him. Frowning, not understanding what this was about, but unwilling to refuse such a request from the White House Chief of Staff, Will lowered himself into the chair, waiting for Leo to speak. 

His words weren't long in coming, and when they did, Will wondered how he could have not realised what they were going to be. "So…you've got a wife." 

What possible way was there for him to reply to that? Will settled for reaching up with one hand, rubbing his forehead, eyes screwing up in thought. "Yes," he said finally. "I have a wife." 

Leo nodded slowly, the long-suffering tone that Will had spoken in appearing to amuse him hugely. "I'm guessing you've been getting that a lot today." 

"Just a little," Will replied, in what, he reflected, must surely be the understatement of the century. "I'm getting used to it." 

"I'm sure you are." Leo chuckled again, but then his face underwent a change, his good humour vanishing, his smile changing to an expression of sober reflection. "Want a nickel's worth of free advice?" 

Will considered for only a moment, then replied, "Sure." 

"My wife and I were married for a long time…and she left me a year into the administration. Though, in reality, I left her a long time before that - I widowed her when I took over the Bartlet for America campaign." He looked away from Will, eyes sliding to the pictures on his desk, and when he looked up again, his eyes were serious. "The final straw was when I forgot our anniversary. I was too caught up in trying to get votes for a gun control bill." 

There was a long pause after that, and Will was the one who broke the silence, seeing that Leo was lost in thought, perhaps in regret. "Why are you telling me this?" 

"You mean why am I turning into your own personal marriage counsellor when I did such a lousy job at my own?" 

The tone was dry, not a little amused, and Will reddened, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I wouldn't put it like that," he began, and Leo cut him off. 

"I just don't want to see anyone else make the same mistakes I've made," Leo said simply. "Don't neglect your marriage for your job." 

Will nodded. "I won't." 

"You want time off over the next few weeks, you take it. You want to leave a little early, that's fine too." Will, unsure of what to say, just nodded again, and Leo tilted his head. "You are leaving early tonight, right?" 

It didn't sound like a question, and Will knew it was a thinly veiled order. "We're going out for dinner… CJ told me about a place, Phoebe's…." Carol had interrupted him in the middle of his second draft of the statement, bearing reservations and directions, all delivered without cracking the slightest of smiles, or asking a single question, surprising him completely. 

Leo's eyes lit up. "That's a great place," he enthused, becoming more animated that Will had ever seen him. "You tell Dario, the chef, that you work for me...and let me tell you what you should get…" 

Slightly bemused, but appreciative, Will leaned back in his seat and listened. 

*

As he walked down the street that night, hand in hand with his wife, Will had to admit to himself that he definitely owed both CJ and Leo big time for their recommendation. Phoebe's had been just as nice as CJ had made it sound, and whatever Carol had said when she'd made the call, they'd been given the perfect table, secluded, out of the way, where they wouldn't be bothered by anyone. Leo's food recommendations had also been right on the money, with his daughter's favourite dessert, a rich chocolate cake, being a particular hit with Reggie. They'd had a lovely meal, sitting across from one another in the dim candlelight, hands joined over the table, talking quietly, swapping stories about the Wilde campaign, and the White House, and the tour. 

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, she'd looked around her, taking in once again the room around them, shaking her head. "You sure know how to spoil a girl," she'd told him, and his heart had lifted somewhat. 

"You mean Ian never took you to places like this?" The second the words were out, he'd wanted to bite off his tongue, because they sounded more than a little waspish, more than a little jealous, and even if that was what he was, there was no need for her to know that. No need for her to know of the worries that had plagued him when she'd been off following her dreams. 

If Reggie had noticed anything though, she didn't mention it, instead actually snickering. "When would we have time?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Besides, I don't think the rest of the guys would have enjoyed a place like this." 

The allusion to the others was significant he felt, a gentle nudge to remind him that it hadn't been just her and her old boyfriend, someone she'd once called the love of her life, schlepping around the world together. He'd taken the hint, leaving well enough alone, preferring to talk to her of other things, safer things, preferring to look at her as she sat across the table from him, looking just as beautiful as he remembered her. 

He'd almost missed her when he'd first walked into the restaurant, having agreed to meet her in the bar. He'd come straight from work, and he was on time as always, hadn't been sure if Reggie would be or not. He'd walked into the bar, scanned it without seeing her, and he'd been about to walk out, call her on her cell phone when a movement out of the corner of his eye had made him turn. 

Just like the previous day, when he'd turned and saw her standing in the bullpen, he found himself staring at his wife, unable to believe that she was really there, looking at him like that. 

The top was dark red, almost crimson, with long sleeves, and an off the shoulder neckline, paired with a long black skirt, the slit of which went halfway up her thigh, exposing her long legs to his gaze. Her shoulder length hair had been curled slightly, was pulled back in a high ponytail, swishing from side to side as she'd uncrossed her legs and stood up, walking over to him slowly. He'd swallowed hard, and she'd smiled, obviously fully aware of the fact that she was having on him, and characteristically, it had been she who'd spoken first. 

"You're right on time." 

He'd had to swallow again before his voice would work properly. "Why do I feel like I'm in my own private showing of Pretty Woman?" he'd asked, and she'd grinned as she'd slipped her arm into his. It had been one of the first films that they'd looked at together, back when they were just friends officially, flirting with the idea of something more. She'd been at his place, having called him an hour earlier, and she'd arrived bearing Chinese takeout and beer. They'd sat down on his couch and had spent the evening flicking through the various channels, him offering commentary on the news and political shows, her on entertainment programming. It had been late and she'd been about ready to leave when they'd discovered the start of Pretty Woman and she'd instantly made herself comfortable again, telling him that there was no way she was leaving until the end of the film. 

As it turned out, she hadn't left at the end of the film either, practically falling asleep in his living room, and he'd thought that she was too tired to drive herself home. She'd said that she could take a cab, he'd told her not to be so ridiculous, that she could stay with him. It was only when she'd looked at him, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows raised, that he realised how that must have sounded, especially when she said pointedly, "In your one bedroom apartment?" 

He'd held up his hands, taking a step back, making himself as non-threatening as possible, as he'd assured her that he would of course take the couch, leaving the bed for her. She'd laughed, telling him that she was only teasing him, and that while she appreciated his offer, she didn't want to put him out. 

But he'd insisted, finally winning the argument, one of the few times that had ever happened in their relationship. The next morning, he'd woken up to the smell of fresh coffee and French toast, and the sound of her humming under her breath. 

He'd known right then and there that he could get very used to that. 

"Penny for your thoughts," she teased him now as they walked, her arm tucked safely through his, and she squeezed it lightly to get his attention. 

He'd chuckled, embarrassed at the direction his thoughts had taken. "Just thinking," was all he said, and she shrugged one shoulder. 

"I'm back a day and already the mystery is gone…that's just great…" It was clear from the tone of her voice that she was still teasing him, and he grinned over at her, letting his free hand rest on their joined arms for a second. 

"About how I ever got along without you," he said quietly, and even in the dim light, he could see her smile soften, could see her cheeks darken. But it was the look in her eyes that made his heart skip a beat. 

"Well…that's allowed then," was all she said. 

"Glad you approve." His hand left hers then, as he saw a cab and hailed it, opening the door for her when it stopped, helping her in. He gave the driver the name of the hotel, then settled back against the seat, looping his arm around her shoulders. She pressed herself close to him, her head dropping onto his shoulder, one hand reaching up to his chest, resting just over his heart. 

"I really missed you." Her voice was so quiet that he could hardly hear her, but he still smiled, squeezed her shoulder gently. 

"I'm glad you're back." 

And he was. Because no matter how much teasing and second looks he had to put up with around the West Wing, he'd put up with it all a hundred fold for her. He had his wife back in his life, back in his arms, and he couldn't wait to start over again with her.


End file.
